


Wheels of Fate (2008)

by JennyB



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Character Death, Community: 7thnight_smut, Flirting, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage, Pirates, Romance, Seduction, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-06
Updated: 2008-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7062937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reticent lawyer and the mysterious pirate. The wheels started turning long before their chance meeting. That fateful journey will reveal what is destined to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wheels of Fate (2008)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lechymonk](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lechymonk).



> This was written for the 2008 7th Night Smut challenge, a Saiyuki-themed writing community on Dreamwidth.
> 
> My requester had asked for an age of sail story.
> 
>  
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
>  
> 
> uffar gwirion – transl. 'silly bastard' in Welsh
> 
> pidin tarw – lit. 'bull's penis', transl. 'dickhead' in Welsh
> 
> twll din – transl. 'arsehole' in Welsh

**Title:** Wheels of Fate

 **Author:** Jennie B. 

**Rating:** NC-17

 **Pairing(s):** Hakkai/Sanzo, mentions of others

 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, I don't own them. I'm just not that talented. Instead, I just play with them for a while, dust them off, and then return them to their regularly scheduled adventures.

 **Summary:** The reticent lawyer and the mysterious pirate. The wheels started turning long before their chance meeting. That fateful journey will reveal what is destined to be.

 **Warnings:** Character death, non-sexual bondage and blindfolding.

 

The conversation was lively in the _Coq et Renard_ tavern. Located a short distance from the port in Calais, it was a frequent haunt for sailors and pirates alike, though many locals and travellers often stopped in for a pint and some revelry, too. Lilting French floated on the night air, but given the fact that England was just a stone's throw across the channel, just as many boisterous discussions were occurring in Her mother tongue, too. One such exchange was currently ongoing between one of the bartenders, a well-dressed gentleman in black, and three or four spirited onlookers. The barman gave him another double shot of whiskey as instructed, and after returning the bottle, he propped an elbow on the counter. "Please, do continue, M'sieur," he pressed in heavily accented English.

The man reached up and pulled the powdered wig off of his head, plopping it down rather unceremoniously on the bar top as he shook out his blond tresses. "It's becoming intolerable. Thirty vessels in the last month alone. And three warships. And of those, eight have been practically under our noses, just off our coast. God damned pirates." The Londoner drained his glass, giving the bartender a nod of thanks when it was immediately refilled. "I tell you, these scoundrels are the reason why the cost of living is increasing in England. Lost cargoes mean increased costs to replace what was stolen. Honestly, they're nothing but a band of thieves and rogues." The blond fell silent for a few moments as he sipped this drink, glancing slightly to his left when he noticed a body settle onto the stool next to him.

The green eyed male gave him a small, polite smile and a nod, and then ordered a glass of merlot in French. While he waited, he removed the indigo coloured felt hat from his head and set it down next to him, then ran a hand through the longish fringe of dark hair at his crown. Dressed in indigo velvet breeches and a coat of the same colour, and accented with a crimson damask waistcoat, he looked the picture of nobility sitting there at the bar. "Pardon me," he remarked to his neighbour, his accent obviously Welsh. "I couldn't help overhear your conversation. You say eight vessels have been raided just along these shores? Hm...if you ask me, I'd say the Royal Navy is either seriously undermanned or under trained." He thanked the barkeep for his glass and took a sip. With a smirk, he added, "Possibly both."

"What the hell would you know about it?" the blond demanded. "I'm sure a pretty face like yours has never even set foot aboard a ship, save for the luxurious liner that brought you here."

"Touchy," the man in blue replied with a soft chuckle. "Are you on shore leave then, Captain? I assure you, I meant no offence."

"I'm not a sailor," the fair-haired male replied tersely. "I'm a prosecutor for the king, and thanks to scum like Kireg the Green, my job has just become incredibly more complicated. His thievery is causing an increase in crime throughout the nation. People are becoming desperate."

An elegant brow arched in interest. "Mm, that is problematic," the brunet replied agreeably. "Because of course it couldn't be due to poor leadership from the Crown or greedy, selfish landowners practically stealing from their own people, creating more poverty, more despair." An impish smile curved up his lips, and as he took another sip of wine, he said, "Though, this Kireg the Green – I can't say I've ever heard mention of him. With a name like that, he sounds ghastly. Like he's perpetually nauseous." Chuckling softly, he pushed up the monocle he wore over his right eye, and gave the barkeep a teasing wink, grinning himself when the portly man guffawed loudly.

"It refers to the colour of his eyes, not his fortitude."

"I see. Well, if England could have a monarch named Ethelred the Unready, one could only wonder if the same held true in this case. Though, pray I don't get mistaken for such a pirate!"

The blond laughed at that. "Thank you for the laugh, Sir. I seriously doubt there's much chance of that, for you are a gentleman, and Kireg Byrne is a merciless killer. A man with no honour. And from reports we've heard from those who have encountered him, a vile and hideous beast."

The brunet's eyes widened dramatically. "A beast you say?"

"Aye. Hair as black as pitch, and with a beard as knotted and gnarled as his soul. They say he's got only one eye, and if he looks at you, it's as though the devil himself is peering into your soul. Filthy and disgusting, like the Welsh dog he is. And when he smiles, all you can see are the foul, crooked teeth."

"How appalling," the gentleman in blue remarked as he finished off his wine. "Well, I do hope they catch that monster soon. The seas would certainly be safer with him off of them." He grinned impishly. "Though, not all Welshmen are beneath contempt, Sir," he added teasingly.

"Indeed," the blond replied, ignoring the other's last comment. "There's a reward of five hundred gold pieces for his capture. Apparently, the Baron of Swansea has posted it, promising to double it should the scoundrel be brought to him alive." He snorted into his glass as he emptied it, giving his new drinking companion a nod of thanks when he purchased another round for each of them.

"Has he? He certainly is generous, asking his subjects to do his dirty work for him. Possibly die in the process. Or rather, likely die, given your descriptions of this pirate." Green eyes narrowed slightly as the man turned to his second glass. "Swansea should challenge him face-to-face."

"Honestly, it makes no difference to me. I personally would love to have a piece of that. Were I to see this villain, I'd give him a taste of my sword and bring him to justice." A grin curved up his lips as he raised his glass, and he stared contemplatively at the amber liquid therein. As violet eyes turned to again look at the gentleman in blue, he winked teasingly as he said, "A thousand would be nice, but I could live quite comfortably off of five hundred."

"Hm..." The brunet smiled as he glanced up at the clock behind the bar, and then quickly finished his wine. "Well, it was very nice meeting you. Do enjoy your vacation, and all the best of luck in tracking down your pirate." Setting his hat back upon his head, he paid for the drinks and then left the bar, a low chuckle in his throat as he put his hands in the pockets of his breeches and strolled slowly down the cobblestones. A moment later, there was a soft rustling, and a small dragon of such a brilliant white that it almost looked silver settled on his shoulder, its long tail curving affectionately around its master's neck. "Yes, my pet, I found him. It won't be much longer now," he remarked as he lightly stroked under the animal's neck with a fingertip. "As soon as preparations are made to sail, I'll get Gawain to retrieve him for me." He laughed a bit louder. "Oh, I think he's in for one hell of a surprise."

After making a quick stop at the chapel to leave a letter with the monks, the brunet made his way back to the port, keeping a careful eye on the streets. The late hour had them practically deserted, or filled with drunkards, which suited him just fine. It just wouldn't do to have credible witnesses about. When he reached the dock, he stood and stared out at the sea, listening to the soft lap of waves against the pier. Narrowing his eyes a little, he glanced up at the sky, noting the heavy clouds rolling in to obscure the moon. "We'll be getting some weather tonight, my friend. Should make for interesting travel."

"Are we ready to go, Captain?"

The dark-haired male turned, beaming when he saw his four senior officers and cabin boy standing on the dock behind him. "Nearly, I'd say." His gaze shifted to the golden-eyed teen, and he chuckled. "I need a favour first, please. Gawain, we're going to have a guest on this leg of our journey. I'd like you to retrieve him for me, please. You'll probably find him down by the pub. A little shorter than me, slender, blond hair, violet eyes, and dressed in black. He might even be poncing about with a ridiculous looking wig. Do try to hurry, if you don't mind."

"Aye, Captain!" the boy responded eagerly. "Do you want him awake or...'other'?"

"Awake, if you please. I do want to speak with him tonight, though try to keep him quiet. It wouldn't do to have the local authorities on hand to see us off. It sort of destroys that whole air of mystery. Oh! And perhaps a blindfold." Kireg laughed. "We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise and let him know who has him right from the start now, would we?"

"Aye, aye!" The cabin boy grinned impishly, and then took off toward town, his slightly too-large shoes flapping noisily as he ran.

The captain shook his head in amusement. "His enthusiasm is admirable." He nudged his pet off his shoulder, and the dragon flew out over the water. After a few seconds, a forty foot sloop sat in the harbour, the wood of such a fine calibre and high lustre that it seemed to almost shine in the darkness. "Gorgeous," the brunet murmured to the night air. "You're not the largest vessel on these seas, but you're certainly the best." He turned to the other four men. "Well then, shall we gentlemen? The rest of the crew should be arriving soon. Provided Gawain has no unexpected trouble, I wish to depart by the top of the hour." He headed up the gangplank to the deck, and then slipped into his cabin to examine his charts and set their course. He looked up when a shadow fell across the desk, and he smiled as the tall man with the long, red hair approached.

"Sir, are you sure it's wise to bring such a man on board? There will be consequences for sure."

The brunet's smile widened, and getting to his feet, he rested a hand lightly on the other's shoulder. "Mr. Rhys, there are always consequences." He laughed softly. "You are my Lieutenant, and my oldest and most trusted friend. I appreciate your concerns, but I assure you, there is no reason for them. I know what I'm doing. And I promise you, when this is over, everything will be settled. You have my word on that."

Crimson eyes regarded him strangely, as though trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the seemingly innocuous words. "You know you make me nervous when you say things like that."

Kireg chuckled. "And you worry far too much, Griffen. Just trust me, my friend." When he felt the other relent a little, albeit reluctantly, he smiled again. "Now please, assist the quartermaster with the last of our preparations. Given his normal efficiency, Gawain should be back at any moment. Oh, and Griffen? When our guest arrives, have him brought here and keep him under guard. He should be comfortable, and I'll speak with him once we're safely in open waters."

"Aye, Captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Rhys. And please show him every possible courtesy that the White Dragon has to offer." An enigmatic smile settled on his face as he went to find Daz Rhys, his boatswain.

* * *

A few hours had passed since the White Dragon had left port under cover of cloud. A light rain was beginning to fall, and after leaving Griffen Rhys at the helm, Captain Byrne went below decks to greet his guest. He smiled at the citrine eyed, lavender-haired tactical officer and asked with a note of wry amusement, "How is he?"

"He wouldn't calm down, so we had no choice but to restrain him, Captain." A loud, shouted curse was heard from behind the closed door, and the light-haired man rolled his eyes. "And he's been doing _that_ , along with mindless screaming, since he came on board and his gag was removed. _God_ , for just five minutes with him! I'd silence him for good – or at least give him something to scream about."

"Leave me with him."

"But Captain –"

"Trust me, Seirian. It will be ok. And I know the Rhys brothers wanted to talk to you to discuss some new battle strategies. It only makes sense to get the tactical officer's input." He rested his hand on the doorknob and grinned. "Don't worry; I'm sure you'll hear my cries for help if I need them." He waited until his officer had gone above deck, and then Kireg entered his quarters, shrugging out of his coat and removing his hat as he closed the door behind him. The blond was currently tied to a heavy chair, though he'd managed to tip it over amid his thrashing, and was lying awkwardly on his side. They'd returned the strip of cloth to his eyes, leaving the man blindfolded. Laughing softly despite the books that were strewn about and the broken glasses and bottles of rum, he grasped the back of the chair and righted his fallen captive.

"Who the hell is there?" the blond demanded. "Keep your filthy hands off of me, you pirate mongrel! You have no idea who you're crossing. I'll see the entire lot of you hanged for your treachery, dog!"

Captain Byrne laughed a little louder at that. "Oh, I know who you are, Gabriel Sloane. I wasn't sure it was you at first, but now, there is no doubt in my mind."

There was a slight pause as the lawyer's brow furrowed a little at the familiarity of the voice, though his anger quickly returned. "How do you know my name, scum?" the blond demanded crossly. "Release me this instant."

"I know all the men who work in the high court in London. Hm..." The brunet pondered the request for a moment. "If I release you, will you talk rationally to me, or are you going to go on another rampage?"

"I don't talk to thieves and murderers. I bring them to justice."

"Then by all means, stay tied up. But I do want to look into your pretty, purple eyes as I talk to you. It's more intimate that way." He reached for the tie on the blindfold. "Careful now, the lamp is on and may seem a bit bright." As he pulled it off, he smiled a little while the blond blinked to adjust to the light, and he grabbed another chair, settling down in front of the lawyer and just watching him.

"I ought to slit - _you_!" Violet eyes widened in complete shock as he stared at the man across from him. "What are you doing here?"

The brunet gave him an impish grin. "I forgot to let you in on a little secret before I left port." Leaning forward in his chair, he whispered sensually in the blond's ear, "I'm Kireg Byrne."

At that, Sloane laughed loudly. "The hell you are." When he saw the other just smile enigmatically and shrug, the sound died off abruptly. "You can't be serious. You look nothing like him, and you're certainly not a pirate."

It was the green-eyed male's turn to laugh. "Well, if I don't look like myself, then please tell me who I am! Though really, the things you've heard? I mean, 'Kireg the Green'? Please. I think you've been grossly misinformed by myth and ignorance. Honestly, what could I _possibly_ have to gain by lying to you about my identity? Hm? Most sane men wouldn't want a bounty on their heads, yes?"

The lawyer gazed at him for several moments in silence, and then his eyes narrowed. "Indeed. In that case, I demand you release me this instant."

The captain chuckled. "And what would you do? Attempt to seize my vessel? You'd find your throat slit before you ever touched the helm. That said, where would you go? We're in the middle of the English Channel, and miles from anywhere. I do hope you're a strong swimmer – provided you don't succumb to the water temperature first." His grin widened when that seemed to silence the other. "So, that said, your stay with us can be as pleasant or as miserable as you'd like it to be."

"Go to hell," the blond spat.

"Soon enough. Though so you know, I'm your only real ally on this ship. The others see you as something of a liability." He smirked darkly. "It's only in deference to me that you haven't been beaten and put in irons." The brunet got to his feet and moved to slip his coat back on.

"Why me?"

"Hm?" The captain paused with one sleeve in the arm.

"I said, why me? What is it you want with me?"

Byrne chuckled as he again slipped off his coat and hung it up, looking thoughtfully at the other. "So now you wish to talk, do you? Well, why not you? I've been searching for a while, and you're the first prosecutor I happened upon. It could just as easily have been Robin Thatcher, or John Dawson, or Richard Greaves. Thank God I found the comeliest of the lot!" He laughed as he retook his chair. "I told you I knew you. As for your other question, all will be clear in good time, Mr. Sloane, I promise you. For now, all you need to know is that your kidnapping will annoy the Baron of Swansea. News of your capture was sent to him as we left Calais. No doubt he'll demand that the fleet be dispatched to seek me out."

"You're using me for a ransom? Pathetic."

"You have a very black and white view of things, Mr. Sloane. If nothing else, I hope that you'll start to see the occasional shade of grey." There was a slight pause, and the brunet let out a small sigh. "I'm going to untie you," Kireg said quietly, the green gaze locked with violet. "I like you, Mr. Sloane, and as I said, I want you to be comfortable. However, if you try to run or start behaving badly, I will take action against you." Despite the smile the captain wore, his eyes were narrowed dangerously, as if silently daring Gabriel to try to challenge him. When he received neither argument nor complaint, he slipped slowly from his chair, moving behind the blond and freeing his wrists from the harsh bindings.

The lawyer scowled balefully at the brunet as he gingerly rubbed the raw marks. Despite the relief he'd felt at having the normal flow of blood returned to his arms, he refused to thank the other.

"You're welcome," Kireg replied as he gave the other male a wink. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What I'd _like_ ," Sloane began, "is to be returned to Calais. Barring that, I want a boat and provisions, and I'll take my chances with the ocean."

Unfazed by the blond's remarks, he crossed to his desk and picked up a glass, pouring himself two fingers of rum. "Hm, I don't think so. It doesn't suit my plans to do that," he said into his drink.

"Your _plans_ ," the lawyer sneered. "What about my life? The fact that you've kidnapped me and are planning to do God knows what with me is beyond reprehensible! That's so typical of a pirate. Self-serving and without honour, motivated by greed and dishonesty - _that's_ the real code you abide by!"

The brunet actually snickered coldly into his glass. "Is that what you think?" he asked as he set his glass down and regarded the other with a sort of detached amusement. "Oh, Mr. Sloane, you certainly have a lot to learn. You don't know a thing about me, and rather than try to find out, as I've offered you countless times now, you pander instead to stereotype and prejudice. Rather than risk shattering your perfect hatred and risk finding that you might actually find my company tolerable, you paint me with the same brush as you do every other of my ilk. By that logic, I could assume that you're a rather poor attorney given your propensity toward bias and unfairness, reaching a conclusion before knowing all the facts." He smirked when the blond's face flushed a little in anger. "However, I'm not completely unreasonable. I'll entertain your request and grant you leave – hell, I'll even turn myself in to you and let you collect your reward and bring me to justice." He chuckled a little at that.

The blond arched an eyebrow. "It can't be as simple as that. What's the trick?"

"Oh, there's no trick. You just have to beat me in a game of chance. If you win, I will willingly surrender to you without resistance." His smirk widened. "However, if I'm offering up such a tantalizing prize for you, then I want a chance to earn something equally valuable for me in return.

Gabriel's eyes narrowed in thought. "What are you asking for?"

"You, Mr. Sloane. If I win, you will belong to me for a twenty-four hour period."

Violet eyes widened a little. "You're insane. No. I refuse."

"Mm, that's too bad," the captain replied with a dark purr as he again picked up his glass. "Because really, if you don't take _that_ chance, you really have no chance, and you might as well resign yourself to the idea of being here until I let you go."

"So arrogant! I'm sure the Royal Navy will find you and dispense with you."

"Oh yes, the Royal Navy." He laughed softly as he finished off his drink. "England's finest, and truly a force to be reckoned with." The sarcasm was practically dripping from his words. "We've faced off on many occasions, and were they smarter about how they approached me, the Northern Fleet wouldn't have half of its flotilla at the bottom of the ocean." He reached for the bottle again, and this time, he poured them each a glass of rum, pushing one across the desk toward his guest as he drank his own. "So, what say you? Shall we play something new, or shall we continue with this tired, old game?" He smirked. "You're in a rather unique position, my friend. You may actually be the first person to have a real chance at capturing me."

The blond's jaw clenched, and after a moment's thought, he conceded. "Alright. What game shall it be?"

"Guest's choice." A dark smile befell the captain's face once more.

"Poker."

On hearing that, Kireg arched a brow and laughed. "As you wish." He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a pack of cards. "Do you need to examine them, or do you trust me not to have marked them?" he quipped dryly, and he didn't miss the scathing look the other cast him for his cheek. As he cleared off the desktop, he motioned for the other to bring his chair closer. Once the blond had done so, he wordlessly put the deck down in front of him and waited, green eyes fixed intently on the lawyer.

Sloane's gaze flicked down to the stack of cards, and then back to the brunet. For several moments, the two simply stared silently at each other, and then, with a snort of amusement, he wordlessly cut the deck and pushed it back to Kireg. "Deal. We'll play best of three hands. No wilds."

Captain Byrne grinned – both at the challenge set forth and at the modicum of trust he'd been afforded. "Agreed." Shuffling the cards and then bridging them between his two hands, he cut the deck three times, gathered it up, and dealt them each a hand.

Sloane won the first with three of a kind, and then the captain won the next by bluffing on a lone pair. On the third hand, the lawyer was confident he'd won. As he revealed his full house, he smirked arrogantly at the dark-haired male.

"Hm…I only have two pair." Kireg looked momentarily crestfallen, though a slow smirk began to spread across his features. "I have a pair of nines. And a second pair of nines." With a playful wink, he got to his feet and rested his palms flat on the desktop as he leaned forward. "By the terms of our agreement, I suppose that means that you're now mine."

Gabriel stared in disbelief at the cards in front of him, almost as if he believed that if he thought hard enough about it, he could somehow make the cards change. He watched, almost as if in a trance, as the captain came around the desk and approached him, that kind, benign, _infuriating_ smile on his face. Before he could stop himself, he'd gotten to his feet himself and snarled out a rough sounding, "Like hell." Growling low in his throat, he pulled back and sucker punched the brunet in the jaw before making a mad dash for the door. He threw it open, only to have his heart sink when he saw the ship's boatswain standing there, looking equally surprised. "Damn."

The raven-haired, dark-eyed male quickly appraised the situation, and seeing his captain on the floor, he simply grabbed the other by the front of his shirt, and forced him back into the room, closing the door behind him. "Are you alright, Sir?" he asked with a note of concern in his voice as he released the blond.

The slender brunet got to his feet, his green eyes sparking in silent fury. He nodded to his officer before he licked the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth, and then he winced a little as he wiped the remainder away from the bruised area. "I'm fine, Mr. Rhys. Thank you." His eyes hardened further as he turned his attention back to Gabriel, and his mouth curved down in a cold sneer. 

Sloane's eyes widened in slight panic when he saw the shift in demeanour, and he tried to take a couple of quick, small steps backwards to put himself against one of the bulkheads.

The captain was faster. Much faster. Crossing the room with a couple of long strides, he grasped the blond roughly by the collar with both fists and slammed him forcibly against the wall, his expression showing no sympathy when the slightly shorter male's head made contact with a dull thud. " _Uffar gwirion!_ You have a lot of nerve, I'll give you that," he remarked crisply. "I've been incredibly tolerant with you, Mr. Sloane, but my patience is wearing thin. You stand here and insult me, insult my honour and integrity while you lord your status – your _political appointment_ – over me as if you are somehow better than me. And yet, when it comes down to a matter of honour, you're the first one to show that you have none."

The lawyer made an attempt to struggle, but with another shake from Kireg and a glance at the well-muscled boatswain's cutlass, he realized the gravity of his situation. Even the impudent retort died on his lips when, for the first time since meeting the other, he saw no trace of kindness in the brilliant green eyes – something he found even more disconcerting at such an uncomfortable closeness. "But I – damn it!" The back of his head made contact with the wall again, and he took that as a sign to stay silent and let the other finish.

"You have the audacity to call us rogues and scoundrels simply because we're pirates, but really, you're no more righteous than us. Self-righteous, perhaps, with an over inflated sense of ego." He released the blond and took a half-step back. "Tell me, how are your actions any different from the odious ones you attribute to me and my brethren, hm? Or is that why you loathe us so adamantly? Do you see yourself in us, and we offer a convenient outlet for your self-hatred?" Not giving the other a chance to respond, he snorted in disgust. "You're blinded by your own hypocrisy, and it's sickening to witness." He fell silent after that, and he moved to the porthole, his hands clasped lightly behind his back as he gazed out at the darkness and the rain, the lamp casting flattering shadows over his fine profile, glinting slightly off of the three gold hoops he wore in his left ear.

Gabriel made to move, but a stern clearing of the throat from the raven-haired man next to him made him rethink that. When a couple of minutes passed in silence, the blond began to lose his patience, and eventually called to the other. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. "An apology?"

The corners of the brunet's lips quirked up a little. "No. At this point, I don't think it would be worth anything." He glanced over his shoulder at the other, his eyes still cold and threatening. "If you were a member of my crew, I'd have killed you on the spot for your treachery." Slowly, a dark smirk crept across his face – one that sent a cold chill through the blond. "Lucky for you, you're not a member of my crew." He brushed his thumb over the wound on his lip, absently licking the blood from it as he eyed the lawyer. "That said, I don't plan on letting this go, either. I guess you could say I'm petty that way." His gaze shifted to the tall male. "Daz, lash him to the mast. A few hours in the rain and these cold seas should be sufficient. But no one is to touch him."

"Aye, Captain," the large male replied, giving his senior officer a crooked grin, and chuckling softly at the wide-eyed expression on the blond's face. He'd seen others undergo this particular punishment in the past.

Kireg's attention shifted back to the lawyer. "Mr. Sloane, take off your coat. I'd hate to see such a fine garment ruined." Not giving the lawyer a chance to resist, the captain divested his guest of the garment, carefully hanging it up for him. As he watched his boatswain drag the protesting man off, he smirked. "I warned you. Perhaps next time, you'll think twice before neglecting your manners."

* * *

Several hours later, Captain Byrne awoke to a soft knocking on his door. "Come," he called as he sat up and reached for his lens, and he smiled when he saw it was Gawain. Though the boy was barefoot and drenched, he was grinning from ear to ear. "Good morning," he greeted, and then he chuckled. "Though from the look of you, it doesn't seem to be a good day for sailing."

"It's a good day if you're a duck, Captain. The waves are breaking over the bow and it's coming down pretty steady."

Kireg laughed at that. "Yes, I can feel the ship rolling a little. Certainly not the worst we've ever been out in, though." He smirked. "And my guest? How's he faring? He's not been swept out to sea yet, has he?"

"No, he's still there. Mr. Rhys is very good with knots." The cinnamon-haired teen's brow furrowed a little. "He's strange, Captain."

"Oh? How so?" The green-eyed male cast the other a curious look as he reached for his leather justaucorps and slipped it on, along with the worn leather tri-corn hat.

"Well…first of all, I don't think he's sailed much. I…think he got sick. And he keeps shouting an apology to the sky."

The brunet smirked again. "I see…"

"And also? He keeps asking for you. I think the other Mr. Rhys – Lieutenant Rhys – got tired of listening to him, so he asked me to fetch you."

"Thank you, Gawain. Tell Mr. Rhys to find someone to relieve him and to get some rest." Once the boy had left, he fastened the toggles on his coat and headed above deck. As the teen had mentioned, he could hear the blond's hoarse shouts on the wind, and pushing his hat down more firmly upon his head, he made his way across the slippery deck boards toward the other. He couldn't help but laugh softly as he took in the lawyer's appearance. Sloane's linen shirt and silk stockings were soaked and semi-transparent, the cold, wet fabric sticking to his skin and causing him to shiver violently. And he couldn't huddle in on himself for warmth, for his arms were outstretched and behind him a little from where he'd been lashed to the mast. His hair was plastered down to his head, and his face had a slight green hue from the seasickness – the evidence of which partially remained upon the deck and on his clothing. "Not quite as steady as your passenger ship, is it? And here you'd made it sound like you had sea legs back in Calais."

A particularly large gust of wind came up and fluttered the sail, sending yet another shower of water careening down upon the helpless lawyer, and he spluttered for breath, gasping loudly as he tried yet again to break his restraints. "This is all _your_ fault! I hate you!" he shouted.

The captain smiled. "Hm…I will agree that it was my order that put you in this position, but if memory serves me correctly, _you_ set the wheels in motion through your own actions. You could have been inside, warm and dry and rested, but instead, you're paying for your indiscretion. And really, you insisted that you hated me before this, so…" He gave Gabriel a shrug and a smirk, turning away and raising an arm when a wave came across the bow and sloshed up against the blond. After brushing himself off, he waited for the lawyer to stop coughing, and he continued. "But I suspect you must be tired. And I'd imagine you're probably sore from standing like that for the past four hours. Neither of which is probably helping the nausea you're still feeling." He reached out a hand, cool, slender fingers resting against the slightly fevered forehead.

The blond jerked his hand away, the sudden action causing him to swoon slightly from the vertigo. "Oh God," he murmured lowly, his stomach twisting violently as he shuddered from a series of dry heaves. Slumping back against the mast, he looked dolefully up at the brunet. "You should have just killed me and been done with it." A stifled gasp escaped him as another deluge of cold rainwater fell on him from the sail and ran down his back.

"I'd rather help you, Mr. Sloane. It's only your stubbornness that's preventing that from happening."

"I will not be your whore!"

At that, the captain arched a brow in obvious surprise, and then he scowled. "I said that you were mine for twenty-four hours, Mr. Sloane. I didn't say I was going to bed you – though to be fair, I probably would try." He pushed the blond's bangs out of his eyes, his fingers threading slightly in the wet tresses to keep him from shying away. "Believe it or not, Mr. Sloane, I do have an education. I am a university scholar. Though once again, you've painted me with that same, broad brush because, of course, someone like me couldn't _possibly_ have any interest in anything but the basest of desires." He released his hold on the other and turned his back to him. "As you wish, then. We have two days until we reach our destination, provided the winds are favourable. Until you agree to honour our arrangement, I plan on leaving you here. Consider it something akin to incarceration of an individual for breach of contract. With luck, the sun will be out later this afternoon, and you should dry some. I'll have Gawain come by at some point with food and drink. I should think he'll be quite happy to have a pet."

"Wait!" When Kireg turned around, violet eyes met green. "You went through all of this because you just want to talk?"

An impish smirk settled on the other's face. "For now, yes. Though I can't say what whim might strike me at a later time. As I'm sure you know, I find you attractive."

The blond pressed his lips together into a thin line. "Alright. If you promise not to touch me, I'll go with you."

"You think this is up for debate?" At that, the captain laughed. "I shall make no such promise, and you don't get to renegotiate because you lacked the foresight to consider such a thing. You don't get to change things simply because it's an inconvenience to you! …Head's up." Again, he shielded himself with his coat as another wave crashed over the bow. "Decide quickly, Mr. Sloane. I'm going for a cup of tea and breakfast. You can either join me, or you can stay out here in the rain. It really doesn't make much difference to me. Admittedly, I am disappointed, but I suppose I can't always have what I want."

Gabriel's arms and shoulders were beginning to ache horribly, and his legs felt like jelly. He again gazed at Captain Byrne, and he shifted his feet, grimacing at the soggy squelching he felt in his shoes. He debated trying to out-stubborn the pirate by waiting it out, but he quickly came to realize that the green-eyed male not only would never cede, but he also had a point in that the only one really affected by all this was the lawyer. Furthermore, even if the sun _did_ come out, there was little chance that his overall situation would improve by any significant amount. The blond sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the deck boards as his head slumped forward. He finally understood the futility of his continued obstinance against the enigmatic brunet. He'd lost. Miserably. Something he definitely wasn't used to. Cold and broken, he swallowed his pride as best he could and murmured dejectedly, "I think I'd like to go inside now."

"I think I would, too. Despite its frequency, I've never been fond of the rain." The captain moved to Gabriel's side and quickly unfastened the binding, hurrying to catch the blond when the lack of tension in his arms caused him to slump forward. Foregoing the second wrist for the time being, he helped the other to his feet, steadying him with an arm around his waist. "I'm glad you finally saw reason, Mr. Sloane," Kireg remarked as they carefully made their way below deck. "However, please think carefully if you're planning on crossing me again. If you decide to be that foolish, the punishment will be…severe."

Upon reaching his quarters, Captain Byrne steered the other to his desk chair and sat him in it. "Undress," he commanded, only to sigh impatiently a moment later when the other glared and folded his arms across his chest. "If you stay in wet clothing, you're going to catch pneumonia." Shrugging out of his own slightly damp coat and hanging up his hat, he began rummaging through a low set chest.

"What –" The indignant remark died on the blond's lips when he saw the captain stand and offer him a night shirt and a towel, and he had the grace to flush a little in embarrassment – particularly when he saw the somewhat amused smirk on the brunet's face. "Thank you," he said lowly, his voice slightly chagrined. He towelled off his hair and then hesitated a moment before he stripped off his soaked shirt and stockings. He tugged the borrowed sleepwear on over his head and then, trying to maintain his modesty, he unbuttoned his breeches and slid them down. He cast a quick glance to Kireg, and arched a brow in surprise when he saw that the other was occupied with other tasks. _'What were you expecting?'_ he thought silently as he mentally berated himself. _'Did you think he was going to be staring lewdly at you and making obscene advances?'_ Quietly, he sighed as he picked up his wet clothing and looked around for somewhere to lay them out to dry, and he was shocked to find himself wondering with some disappointment why the taller male hadn't been. His gaze again flicked to the captain. The brunet certainly was attractive enough, a pleasant departure from the usual riffraff that he saw in the jails. There were certainly worse fates than being in the pirate's company for one day.

"Here," Captain Byrne said as he handed the blond a small glass with a strong smelling golden brown liquid in it. "Drink this. It should help ease your nausea."

"What is it?" Gabriel asked warily as he gave it a tentative sniff. It was highly spiced and burned his nostrils a little.

"Ginger root extract. That, coupled with some sleep, should have you more or less back to normal." He took the pile of clothes from Gabriel, and then steered him across the room to the bed. "Down the hatch, mind the taste. It's very strong." He chuckled a little when the lawyer complied, the horrified grimace lingering for a few moments. "Good. Now get in."

The blond again eyed the brunet with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to be checking our course, making corrections, and probably taking the helm for a while. I'm going to have Mr. Atherton, my quartermaster, keep an eye on you. When you wake, I'll return."

"I thought you wanted to talk?"

Kireg smiled. "I do, but there will be time for that later. For now, Mr. Sloane, I'd suggest you take the opportunity presented. Now stop talking, and to bed with you."

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but at seeing the smirk and the arched brow, he promptly closed it, and without another word, climbed into the other man's bed, tugging the blanket up over him as he rested his head upon the pillow. His breath caught in his throat when he smelled the faint scents of vanilla and cypress lingering on the linen, and breathing deeply, he closed his eyes.

He was asleep before the captain left the room.

* * *

The rain had stopped around mid-morning, and by noon, the clouds had broken. The sun was well past its apogee when Captain Byrne felt a tug at his coat sleeve. Glancing over, he saw Gawain, and he smiled at the boy. "Good afternoon," he greeted. "Have you finished your tasks already?"

The cinnamon-haired teen shook his head. "Not yet, but Mr. Atherton sent me for you. He said to tell you that…" He paused, scrunching up his face in recollection. Suddenly, he brightened. "…That the little _pidin tarw_ was awake and asking for you." Golden eyes narrowed a little in contemplation. "What does that mean?"

Green eyes widened a little in shock when he heard the curse, and then he laughed softly at the innocent follow-up question, quite relieved that he'd not yet taught the boy how to speak Welsh. "It means," he began with a grin, "that Mr. Atherton is less than pleased with me at the moment, and I should allow him to get back to his stores, and subsequently to Mr. Rhys, before he decides to mutiny." Ignoring the confused stare he was receiving, he glanced around the deck, and seeing the lavender-haired male, he barked out, "Mr. Prescot, on me if you please."

Seirian Prescot hurried to his captain's side. "Sir?"

"The helm is yours. Keep us on our present heading and make sure I'm informed when we've reached five degrees west longitude, please. It should be fair seas for the next while."

"Aye, Captain."

Turning to his cabin boy, he said, "Gawain, I want you to bring something to my quarters for Mr. Sloane and me to eat. I've not lunched yet, and I'm sure he must be ravenous by now. And if his clothing is dry, please bring that, too."

"Yes, Sir!" the teen replied enthusiastically, and he clambered below deck, his bare footfalls heading in the direction of the galley.

Kireg chuckled, his smirk still on his face when he met Karanteg Atherton at the door to his quarters. "You really do need to get away from your stores more often, my friend," he teased the long-haired redhead. "I fear your lack of socialization is making you a bit short-tempered."

Pale, violet eyes regarded him curiously for a moment, and then the quartermaster snorted in amusement. "Daz makes sure I get plenty of 'social activity'," he remarked pertly as he shook his head to get the crimson bangs out of his eyes, and then he tossed the tri-sectioned ponytail back over his shoulder. Meeting the bright emerald, he smirked. "You never could resist the pretty ones, could you? Though, after seeing you teach him a lesson as you did, I suspect you like this one for more than just his looks."

The captain grinned widely at that. "He's interesting. And spirited. And extremely stubborn."

Karanteg laughed. "He sounds like you."

The brunet gave him a wink. "You think so?" Chuckling, he nodded to the redhead. "Give Mr. Rhys my regards, will you? And don't expend _too_ much energy. When the time comes, I will need you both to fight by my side."

"The same holds true for you, Captain," the other remarked cheekily before he turned to head deeper into the ship, his laugh still reaching his commander's ears long after he'd disappeared from sight.

" _Twll din_ ," he muttered with a smirk as he stepped inside his cabin, arching a brow when he saw the blond seated at his desk and looking at a nautical chart. "Well, you're certainly looking much better than you did a few hours ago." 

"Mm," Gabriel grunted by way of an affirmative reply.

He removed his coat and hat, and then grabbed the other chair and carried it across the room. Sitting down opposite the lawyer, he folded his forearms on the desktop and watched him for a while in curious silence. "Something wrong?" he asked with an enigmatic smile as he watched the deep furrows appear in the other's brow as he glanced from compass to chart and back.

"I don't understand your charts," he remarked finally. "I see the course you've plotted, but I don't understand the vertical lines. And your ship appears to be off course by a few degrees."

"Trust me, Mr. Sloane, we're on the correct heading." He gave the blond a wink. "You're just using the wrong compass." He saw the confused frown deepen, and he laughed a little. "I promise, I'll show you how it works later. In the meantime, I've sent for lunch. Are you hungry?"

Before Gabriel could answer, his stomach responded with a loud growl, and he turned his gaze toward the pirate. "Does that answer your question?" he asked tartly.

Kireg chuckled. "It does. I'm glad that the ginger eased your seasickness. It's unfortunate that it didn't improve your disposition any." 

There was a knock on the door, and when it opened, Gawain and another crewman entered, both of them carrying a couple of plates each. They waited until the captain had rolled up his charts and set them aside before setting the food down. The cabin boy pulled a flask from his pants pocket and set that on the desk, too. "The cook has stuffed hen and vegetables. And I brought wine for you. But I can get you rum if you'd rather."

"Thank you, Gawain, but this will be just fine," he said. "Return later for the dishes."

"Aye, Captain!" the boy replied, and then he and the other male excused themselves, Gawain promising to bring the lawyer his clothes when he came back.

When they were alone, Kireg pushed one of the plates of vegetables in front of the blond, taking the other for himself, and putting the meat and bread in the centre for them to share. He helped himself to a piece of chicken, and after taking a bite, he looked up at the fair-haired man, noticing that he hadn't moved yet. "Is it not to your liking? I know it's not exactly what one could get on shore, but –"

"No, it's not that," Gabriel interrupted, and he reached for a piece of bread. "I was just surprised to hear you have a cook."

The brunet arched a brow as he slowly chewed a piece of turnip. "How did you think we took our meals? Each man for himself? Or did you picture us sitting around a keg of salted meat, eating that by the handful and washing it down with bottles of rum?"

The lawyer flushed a little. "To be honest, I didn't know. I'd never really had cause to think of it before."

"Undoubtedly," he drawled with a wry smirk. "Yes, I have a cook. And in a sense, I suppose we're lucky. We're never too far from land, so we can replenish our supplies within a fortnight at most. Which is good, because truly, I hate salted beef." He grinned a little at that, and turned his attention to a carrot coin.

"You must not have a large crew compliment. I'd think it would be difficult, otherwise."

The captain shrugged. "My crew is the perfect size for our needs. There are twenty-five of us."

Gabriel choked a little on a bite of meat. "That's all? I don't believe it. Reports from the scant few who have survived an encounter with you all say that you have over one hundred men! And let's not forget the fact that you're rumoured to have sank several frigates single-handedly."

"I swear to you that my crew is only twenty-five. But I have no problem with people perpetuating the myth that it's bigger than it is." He smirked a little as he reached for the flask and poured them each a bit of wine. "As for my encounters with warships, that is completely accurate. The crew of the White Dragon is the best in the entire world, all of us loyal to our ship, and willing to die to protect it. And we're quite… _unique_ in some respects. Well, a few of us are, anyway." The green eyes sparkled impishly as he took a drink from his glass. "Just like this vessel. He may not be the largest ship on the open seas, but he is powerful. And he can handle himself in battle."

The blond's brow furrowed. "You mean 'she'. Convention is to call a ship 'she', isn't it?"

Kireg chuckled. "I suppose so, but why would I call the White Dragon 'she' when he's quite obviously a he?"

"Obviously." Gabriel let out a snort of amusement. "You are, by far, the strangest man I've ever met. And I'm sure the next thing you're going to tell me is that there's a reason you know this, and just what it is that makes you and your crew so special that no one for the past four years has been able to touch any of you."

The brunet considered that for a few moments, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of chicken. "Oh, there's a reason," he said finally. "The thing is, I really doubt you'd believe me if I told you. And since I have no real desire to listen to you mock me, I'd sooner spare us both the indignity."

"Are you trying to irritate me?" the blond asked.

"I could ask you the same thing. Despite what you may think, for someone who works in a social arena, you're not all that pleasant to be around. In fact, you're quite irksome for the most part."

Gabriel scowled a little. "Look, I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't interested." He dropped his gaze to his plate and poked at a piece of squash with his fingertip. "I want to know more about you." _'And damn it all if that isn't the truth,'_ he thought in annoyance as he quickly grabbed and drained his wine glass if for no other reason than to have an excuse to explain the flags of colour on his cheeks.

"Do you?" The brunet gave him a wry smirk. "Why the sudden change of heart? Did the time alone with the sea and the rain afford you some personal reflection?" he asked as he refilled both of their glasses and then rested his elbows on the desktop, his fingertips steepled in front of him as he gazed studiously at the other man. "It can be therapeutic," he purred.

The blond gave him a half shrug in return. "Perhaps I've just started to listen to some of the things you have to say, and I've come to realize that I may have been…" He clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly, the word 'wrong' catching in his throat. "I was lacking evidence and was misled into believing an alternate truth."

Captain Byrne's eyes widened a little, and then he laughed delightedly. "How very lawyerly of you!" he remarked with a wide grin. His expression turned mischievous, and dropping his voice a little, he nodded sagaciously and added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Apology accepted, Mr. Sloane. And really, your secret is safe with me. No one else has to know that you were so falsely misrepresented."

"Are you always so saucily impertinent?" Gabriel asked with a snort.

"Only when I'm flirting," the captain replied with a devilish smile and a wink. "Is it working?"

The blond had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own smirk. He had to admit that the brunet had a definite charismatic flair, and there was certainly some allure behind his words and mannerisms. It certainly didn't hurt that he had a pretty face. "I'll let you know."

Kireg couldn't help but chuckle. "Fair enough. I suppose I'd better make my stories good, then, lest I put you off." He took a bite out of a piece of bread, and met the violet eyes. "Which will you hear first? I know you're curious as to why you can't follow my charts. Or maybe you're more interested in the story of my ship and crew? Hm…perhaps I should just start from that day four years ago when all this began."

"That might be best," Gabriel agreed, keeping to himself the fact that he wanted to better understand what would make the educated, soft-spoken brunet turn to such a life. "You said that you went to university. What did you study?" Gazing at the dark-haired male, he tried to imagine him sitting in a lecture hall.

Captain Byrne grinned. "Interesting question, and really, that's where my story begins. I was born in Newport, as I'm sure you can tell from my accent. I lost both my parents when I was young. Da was a fisherman and died at sea, and Mum…I'm not sure what happened to her. But I was taken in by a young priest named Alistair Byrne, and he raised me as his own son. He taught me to read and write, educated me not only in theology and philosophy, but mathematics and science. When I was older, eleven, I think, we moved to Cardiff. Father Byrne wanted me to become well rounded, so he had me learn sailing and swordsmanship, battle strategies and diplomatic arts. He also had some friends who were scholars, and after meeting me, they wanted me to become a student at the university, and so I did. I loved science, so that's what I studied. By the end of my schooling, I had developed a new method of navigation that was far superior to what everyone else was using." He paused at that, and seeing that the blond was now finished eating, he quickly gathered up the plates, and after looking around for a suitable place, he shrugged and settled for simply setting them on the floor beside him. After brushing off the top of his desk, he reached for one of his charts and spread it out. "These vertical lines allow us to determine our position in an east/west direction similar to how we use our sextant for north/south. It's all based on time – we have a chronometer set to London's time, and using the sun's position, we can figure out where we are with fairly good precision. It all sounds more complicated than it really is," he said with a chuckle. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out an odd looking compass. Laying it down, it showed that the course they were on was the one set on the chart. 

The blond's eyes widened as he studied the device. He wasn't entirely sure how it worked, but it was rock-steady in holding its heading, and wasn't affected by the jostling from the rough seas. "This is remarkable. If the Royal Navy could use this, we would have a navigational superiority over our enemies."

Green eyes narrowed slightly and flashed with an intense hatred. With a hint of a growl in his voice, the brunet replied, "You sound just like Swansea, only without the pomposity and self-serving arrogance."

Gabriel tensed a little at the change in demeanour, and careful to phrase his question correctly, he asked, "What does he have to do with this?"

"He has _everything_ to do with this," the brunet retorted coldly. His tone turned slightly bitter as he continued, "The Baron heard about what I had done. It wasn't long before he'd pulled himself from his privileged position to come and see why everyone was making such a fuss over some poor little proletarian boy. Of course, my professors were beyond proud, and happily told Swansea all about the veritable genius in their midst. He asked for a demonstration and invited us all on board his ship. Naturally, he was quite pleased with what he saw, and told me that he wanted my compass and chronometer. He used your words, even. Claimed that there would be navigational superiority for England. And I told him no. In return for my obstinance, the Baron murdered my professors in cold blood before my eyes, and then took his blade and gave me a permanent reminder of my defiance." At that, he sat back a little in his chair to unfasten his waistcoat, and then his shirt. Meeting the blond's eyes as he revealed the long, wide scar that traversed his belly, he murmured darkly, "After he'd let me taste the steel of his sabre, he refused to kill me outright, wanting me to suffer. He had me thrown overboard, my guts escaping my body, and left me to die. In the meantime, Swansea returned to land with my compass, and brought it to the attention of the admiralty. He didn't have the chronometer – during the scuffle, it had gotten knocked overboard, and honestly, I don't think he really knew how to use it in the first place. Nevertheless, he was lauded as something of a hero, and never once did he mention how he had come into possession of such a thing." A bitter smirk settled on his face. "I understand that the Royal Navy is slowly adopting its use."

"That was a wretched thing he did, but at least you survived," Gabriel observed, a look akin to sympathy in his eyes, though he didn't express the sentiment aloud.

"Yes, in a manner of speaking, I survived. As I floated in the water, trying to literally hold myself together, I swore revenge upon Swansea. I vowed that if I lived, I would destroy him. And when he fell, it would be by my hand. I remember feeling a cold hand at my back after that, and as I managed to open my eyes, I saw myself in the arms of a water demon. It was a ghastly looking creature with sickly blue skin, and a great, toothy grin like some sort of shark, but its voice was oddly kind and soothing. It offered to help me, though it warned me that should I accept, my soul would no longer be pure and God would turn His back on me. At the time, it seemed like a reasonable price to pay, for after all, I had no real use for God, and never have. I remember it crying softly with compassion as it used its own blood to close my wound, and when it was finished with me, it lamented my loss. I was changed. I was no longer human, but demon – a cursed being. I can do things no ordinary human can, though when I die, there will be no absolution, only darkness."

"A demon!" The blond considered that for a moment. He'd heard fairy tales of such things, but had never put much stock in them, chalking them up to stories for children. "You certainly don't look like one." 

"Don't let mythology or your own perceptions blind you to truth. We think we know so much, but really, we're quite ignorant of the world around us – at least until it chooses to reveal things to us." The captain shifted his chair a little closer to the other male and leaned toward him slightly, dropping his mental shields.

Gabriel met the green eyes, and for the first time, he noticed their unusual brightness, the unnatural purity of the colour. He remembered his early morning encounter with the brunet, and being almost immovably pinned against the one bulkhead. His own gaze widened a little.

"It's alright, Mr. Sloane," the brunet said after a moment as he looked away, a slow grin spreading across his features. "I promise you that I really have no desire to harm you. After all, I've already told you that I like you."

Still slightly discomfited, the lawyer nodded, not wanting to believe the dark-haired male, and yet unable to question the darkness he had seen in that brilliant gaze. "So the face of evil wears a pretty smile…" He glanced up when the door opened, and Gawain crept quietly inside. The cabin boy gave the two an apologetic, albeit cheerful smile as he set a rather poorly folded stack of clothing on the captain's bed, and then he retrieved the nearly empty plates from the floor, giving both men a slight nod before leaving again. 

Kireg smiled at the boy, and then sighed as his attention returned to the blond. "You truly don't understand. Demon doesn't mean evil or ugly. The water demon didn't have to help me, and despite its grotesque appearance and my own prejudice, it did. And it received nothing in return save for my thanks, nor did it ask for any recompense. Just as human doesn't mean good. Look at the Baron of Swansea. People think him handsome and honourable, and yet, he has one of the blackest souls I've ever seen." He glanced sidelong at the lawyer. "It's as I said, nothing is ever truly black and white."

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably in his chair, not liking the heavy feeling that had settled in his chest on hearing that. In an attempt to change the subject and get to the end of the story, he asked, "What happened after that?"

"It took several weeks, but eventually, I returned home to find Father Byrne murdered. There was no doubt in my mind as to who had done it – especially since with my new senses, I could smell the Baron's stench on my father. I took his crucifix, which I wear to this day as a reminder of him, and after burying my only family, I attempted to figure out what to do next. I decided that I would go after Swansea where it would hurt him most – his coffers – and through a turn of fate, I turned to piracy, swearing to only ever steal from ships under his banner, and those of his allies. Though, anyone foolish enough to attack me was quickly dispensed with. 

"I was lucky to find the White Dragon. Or rather, he found me. He quite literally is a white dragon who can assume the form of this ship. Why he befriended me, I don't know, but not a day goes by where I'm not grateful for what he's done for me." He smirked a little. "I'd offer to prove it to you, but I really have no desire to go for a swim at this time. Though it certainly explains why no one has ever seen my ship in port, doesn't it? As for my crew…well, my officers are my dearest friends. I've known them for years, and they're completely loyal to me. In order to better serve and protect, they sought out the water demon themselves. Each of them paid their own price – it's never been my place to ask – and they are similar to me. Gawain, too – although, he was the way he was when we met. In all, there are six of us that possess these 'unique' attributes. In battle is where we truly shine, and it's why we're so effective in such a small number."

Violet eyes gazed at the captain for several moments in silence. "Your ship is a dragon." He saw the nod. "You and your senior staff are demons." There was another nod. "And your mission is based solely on revenge against the Baron of Swansea." Again there was a nod, followed up with a smile. "How foolish. What do you plan to do once you've defeated him? And that said, why haven't you just gone and attacked him directly?"

Captain Byrne laughed at that. "Swansea lives in a veritable fortress, and I'd sooner not risk my own life or that of my men on a mindless siege. I want him to come to me, and the only way he's going to do that is if I draw him out. And from the rumours I've heard, he's getting desperate. His waiting and hoping that someone else will kill me isn't working, and he's running out of money. Soon, he'll have no choice but to face me." He smirked a little. "And really, the Baron has such _exquisite_ tastes that once he's dead, I should think that my crew can retire in relative luxury. They've certainly earned a fair bit of gold already from sailing with me."

"But what about you? What will you do?"

The brunet smiled pertly. "I'm touched that you're so concerned with my future well-being, Mr. Sloane. It truly warms my heart." Chuckling a little, he shrugged. "I don't know what I'd do. I know that I'd be at peace, and really, that's enough."

The blond's brow furrowed a little. "You could always go to the king. He's looking for privateers, and with your talent, I'm sure he'd grant you a pardon. I'd be your advocate even, if you wished."

Kireg's expression softened considerably and he once more shifted his chair closer to the other male. "Ah, so you do have a noble streak after all. When you talk like that, it only makes me want you more, and I fear I'm just going to have to flirt shamelessly with you now." Slowly, he reached out a hand, and through half-lidded eyes, he watched the lawyer's face as he lightly brushed cool fingertips across a smooth cheek.

Gabriel started at the touch and pulled away, but not because it was unpleasant. Rather, he felt a jolt of pure pleasure spark through him, leaving him feeling as though he had butterflies in his stomach. "You mean you weren't being shameless before?" he asked, grateful for the fact that his voice remained calm and even.

The captain chuckled as he dropped his hand back to his lap. "Maybe I was being a _little_ shameless. Though, despite all your protestations to the contrary, I believe that you quite like me this way. And since I'm already being completely brazen, tell me something…" With one hand, he swept his charts onto the floor and lithely moved to kneel on the desktop, leaning forward so that he could grasp the arm of the blond's chair. "Have you ever been with a man before?" Green eyes peered sensually at him as a slow, sultry smile curved up the corners of his mouth. 

The fair-haired man's heart was beating fast in his chest as he moved to push his chair back a little and found that he couldn't – not with the captain holding him there. His gaze flicked upwards, and for a moment, the pirate looked like a great cat about to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. "No!" he remarked, much more vehemently than he'd planned. "Of course I haven't!"

"You'd probably like it. With the right partner, I mean." Keeping his hand on the arm of the other's chair, he swung his body around to sit on the edge of the desk, his legs dangling on either side of the blond's knees. "Me, for example, I'm an equal opportunist. There's pleasure to be had from both, so why limit oneself? Granted, I am quite selective. A pretty face is nice, but there has to be a mind behind it. And I love a challenge. Half the fun is there, I think." He released his hold, moving his hand to again trace over a fine cheekbone before folding both in his lap.

"Are you suggesting that _you're_ the right partner?" Gabriel demanded, trying to sound indignant while cursing the heat he could feel creeping into his cheeks. The other was close enough that he could smell that faint scent of cypress and vanilla again, and he bit his lip to silence the soft moan that threatened. "That's quite arrogant of you."

Green eyes sparkled impishly. "Yes. To both. Though really, is it arrogance if one speaks the truth? I've yet to hear complaint." When several moments passed and the blond still hadn't moved away, he leaned forward again and threaded a hand lightly in the soft, flaxen tresses. "I know you're curious…and you can deny it if you'd like, but I believe you're quite smitten with me." With that, he closed the distance between them to give the other a soft kiss.

The gentle fingers against his scalp felt so good, and Gabriel wanted so desperately to lean into the embrace, but instead, he narrowed his gaze and straightened, leaning back a little in his chair so he was out of the pirate's reach. "You think quite highly of yourself." Despite the glare, the corners of his lips did twitch upward just a little, and he attempted to hide his smirk behind his hand as he wiped his mouth. "For a self-professed incubus, I'd have thought you would kiss better than that."

Kireg's eyes widened at that, the comment rendering him temporarily speechless. Finally, he gave the other a dark smile. "Hn…If you want me to prove myself…" Quickly, he grabbed Gabriel by the wrists and turned him so that he had him pressed up against the wall, his smile widening as his lips hovered just over the other's. "Like this?" he asked lowly, his voice dropping to a seductive purr.

The blond gasped in surprise, and when he felt the warmth of the other's body, and his soft breath against his cheek, he did let out a quiet whimper. Swallowing thickly, he licked his lips and gazed up at the other through golden lashes. "How about a game instead?"

A brow arched in curiosity. "And here I thought we were already playing one, you teasing minx." He lightly nuzzled against the blond's cheek with the tip of his nose and then snapped playfully at him.

Gabriel resisted the urge to wrap his arms around the other and kept them pressed flat against the bulkhead. Tipping his head down, he glanced coyly up at the other. "You might be playing, but I'm not yet willing to give up my virtue."

"And how would one do that, Mr. Sloane? Win your virtue, that is." He kissed the other's jaw, just below his ear.

The blond inhaled sharply through his teeth at the soft press of lips, and turning his head to meet the captain's eyes, he said, "Liar's dice."

"Mm, a pirate's game. You must feel fairly confident to want to play that." Another teasing nuzzle was placed on the lawyer's other cheek. "And if I lose? What do I forfeit?"

"You turn yourself in to me when we reach land."

Kireg chuckled. "If that's what you want, then agreed." With one last kiss to the blond's jaw, he straightened, moving back to his desk and finding the dice they would need.

Gabriel took a chair opposite the brunet, putting his five dice in the shaker and waiting to begin. Unfortunately, the blond wasn't very good at the game, and before long, he was down to two dice to the captain's four. After peeking at his 'hand', he looked up at the other. "Shall we make the game more interesting?" he asked innocently, and upon seeing the questioning look he got in reply, he smiled. "Call this last hand, and we increase the stakes. If I win, you give me free rein to move about the ship as I see fit, and you become a privateer in the king's employ. If you win, I'll be yours for the remainder of this voyage, not just for the next twelve hours." He saw the slight frown, and quickly added, "Or is that not to your liking?"

"It just seems…uneven, considering I have a potential lifestyle change on the line. You're wanting me to become a respectable man, when quite clearly, I am not." He peeked at his dice, and then looked seriously at the blond. "If I win, I want you, willingly, plus your promise to carry out a favour for me of my choosing before we part company."

"Fine. I call two threes."

"Two fours."

Violet eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation, and the blond said, "Four fours."

"Call." Kireg smirked when he saw that the lawyer had a one and a three, and looking at the other, he said, "You deliberately threw the round, didn't you?"

Gabriel simply shrugged and replied with an air of innocence, "Lady Luck just wasn't smiling on me this afternoon." Setting down his cup, he met the bright green, a demure grin settling upon his features as he bowed his head slightly, his long lashes fanning out over his cheeks. "I guess this means I give myself over to you."

A low purr sounded in Kireg's throat as he gazed at the man across from him. "God, you _are_ a minx, and a saucy one at that." He came around the front of the desk and took the blond's hand in his, and as he pulled him to his feet, he slipped his free arm around the slender waist. "You're certain? Despite rights and claims and such, I wouldn't against your will." He smirked a bit. "It's incredibly tempting, but believe it or not, I'm just not that much of a bastard."

The fair-haired male smiled again. "God help me I am, though if you keep talking, I might start having second thoughts."

The captain grinned wolfishly. "Then I'd better make sure I suitably distract you to keep such thoughts at bay." Drawing the other closer to him, he pressed his lips to the blond's, capitalizing on the soft gasp to deepen the kiss. As he languidly explored the various surfaces of the smaller male's mouth, he let his hands lazily rove over his body, the touches gentle and caressing.

Gabriel let out a soft moan when he was kissed, and he arched against the exploring fingers, the sensation warm and soothing through the thin linen of his nightshirt. Again, he felt that light, almost giddy feeling spread through him, and he was incredibly grateful that he hadn't bothered to change yet. He gasped a little when he felt the other squeeze his ass, and his hands clenched into loose fists down by his sides as he felt his body responding to the tender contact.

Kireg broke the kiss, following it up with another quick press of lips, and then he began to mouth along the blond's jaw. He smiled against the soft skin and murmured, "You know, it is alright for you to touch me, too," he teased lightly as he took the other's hands and brought them up to his neck. "I quite like it, and I promise, I won't bite – well, not in an unpleasant way, anyway." Slipping his arms back around the fair-haired male's waist, he began to tug the other across the room to his bed, pausing at the side to nuzzle at the slender throat. "You are, by far, the most gorgeous creature I've ever held in my arms," he said softly, kissing along his collarbone and briefly suckling the hollow of his throat. Returning to claim his mouth with another searing kiss, he let one of his hands slip down between them to lightly brush against the other's burgeoning arousal.

Gabriel let out a startled gasp at the touch to his groin, an embarrassed flush colouring his cheeks. He'd never been turned on by a man before, and he found the ease with which the pirate was doing so slightly disconcerting. He began to wonder if the captain was just teasing him, and this was yet another one of his games. He bit his lip when the brunet murmured reassuringly in his ear as he cupped him gently, and then he turned questioning, violet eyes to the taller male, silently searching the deep green. 

"It's alright. I told you I wouldn't hurt you," Kireg said lowly as he returned his hands to the other's waist. "Though I'm happy to see that you're enjoying yourself, too. I'd have been worried if I'd gotten no reaction from you at all." Purring softly, he tightened the embrace as he licked teasingly along the tendon in his neck, slowly grinding his hips against the blond to let Gabriel feel that he, too, was quite pleased with how the afternoon was progressing.

Groaning wantonly, the fair-haired male tightened his hold around the brunet's neck, forgetting about his own awkwardness and losing himself once more in the moment. Hesitantly, he shifted his hands a little so that he could run his fingers through the short hair at the taller man's nape, and he was pleasantly surprised to find it downy soft and smooth like silk. He felt the slight hitch of breath against his throat, and emboldened, a coy grin settled on his face as he threaded the digits deeper into the thick, dark tresses, dragging his nails along the back of his head and down his neck before moving across his shoulders. He was rewarded with a small shiver and a low, pleasured mewl from the other.

Kireg moved to nuzzle at the blond's left ear, whispering lowly, "I need to see and touch more of you." Slowly, he began to inch the other's nightshirt up, bunching the fabric in his hands until he reached the hem. Kissing his way over to Gabriel's mouth, he once again delved into the moist heat with his tongue as he carefully eased the garment further up the shorter male's body, breaking the kiss only long enough to tug it off and let it fall in a heap to the floor. He was rendered momentarily speechless as he let his gaze rove over the bare form before him, the pale flesh smooth and flawless, and like satin beneath his fingertips. He felt a twitch of pleasure, and as he pulled the other to him again, he kissed him deeply as he eased him back onto the bed. "Christ…" Leisurely, his hand skimmed lightly over the ridges and planes of the blond's torso, and when he reached the rigid column of flesh between his legs, he licked his lips in anticipation and wrapped his hand around it. He gave a couple of long, slow pumps, and then brushed his thumb over the velvety skin at the tip, gathering up the drop of precome and laving it sensually from the digit.

Gabriel tensed a little as he was stripped, but the captain's slow, methodical worship of his body put him quickly at ease, and he was surprised by the low, wanton moan that escaped him when he felt the slender fingers on his cock. His eyes widened a little when the other tasted him. He'd never seen a more erotic sight in his life, and he reached out a hand and grabbed the brunet by his waistcoat, pulling him down for a kiss so that he could sample himself on the other's lips. He eased back just enough to break contact, and as his fingers fumbled with the heavy buttons, he whispered against the dark-haired male's lips, "I want to touch you like this, too."

Kireg grasped the blond's hands in his, holding them in place for a moment. A pleased smile curved his lips upward, and after slowly kissing the tip of each finger, he slipped from the bed, unfastened his vest, and shrugged out of it, draping it over the back of a chair. He toed off his shoes and removed his stockings, and then unbuttoned his breeches, hissing softly as his own aching need was released. Dressed only in his cotton shirt, he made his way back to Gabriel, once again taking his hands in his and softly kissing the backs of them. "Then touch me," he murmured as he slid his fingers away and stood before the other, a gentle, encouraging smile on his lips.

The blond sat up a little and reached for the brunet, grasping his shirt at the chest with one hand, his other tugging at the buttons and pulling the sides apart to reveal more of the other's flesh. He brushed his fingertips over the onyx crucifix that hung from the captain's neck before he continued his quest, and after he'd managed to get a few more buttons undone, he grabbed the shoulder seams and leaned back a bit, easing the garment off and letting it fall to the floor. Violet eyes stared unabashedly at the captain's form, his gaze first falling upon the long, jagged scar at his belly, then moving slowly to the various other reminders of past injuries. With trembling fingers, he reached out and touched them, the pearly, iridescent flesh seeming to glow against the fair colouring of the pirate's skin. He blinked slowly and swallowed thickly as a hint of a smile ghosted across his face. Despite the way they stood out, in his opinion, they didn't detract from his overall beauty. In fact, he found them oddly striking, and they seemed to suit him. Letting his hand drop back into his lap, he allowed his gaze to drift down, memorizing every detail of the long, thick shaft in front of him. Finally, he grasped the brunet's hand and pulled him to the bed, letting his fingers caress and tickle over every inch of skin it could reach.

For about twenty minutes, Kireg indulged the other, letting him touch and explore his body, and then, feeling as though every nerve ending was on fire, he shifted his position to half-pin the blond beneath him. He kissed him hungrily, and then pulled away to kiss along his jaw and down his throat, moving across his chest to draw a nipple between his teeth. He flicked the tip of his tongue over the firm bud and then suckled gently, enjoying the way Gabriel would writhe and moan beneath him with each new sensation. Finally, unable to resist any longer, he moved to kneel between the lawyer's legs. He picked up one, and starting at the ankle, he placed a series of alternating kisses and teasing nips to the inside of his calf and thigh, stopping just short of his groin. He repeated the action on the other side, and then placed a hand on the mattress on either side of Gabriel's waist. Dipping his head, he licked slowly up the underside of his cock, chuckling impishly when the blond cried out loudly in pleasure, more precome seeping from his tip. "If you liked that…" He didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he stretched out and lowered his head further, parting the other's legs a bit more as he let his tongue teasingly circle the tight ring of muscle between his cheeks.

Gabriel felt as though he was floating, an intense, tingling sensation radiating out from the base of his spine to his extremities. His cock twitched a little, and he whimpered slightly. Kireg's teasing was bringing him ever closer to release, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to hold himself back. The feel of the warm, wet tongue on his length felt amazing, though when it moved lower, and he felt it lightly probe at his entrance, he arched up a little and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from begging for more. He couldn't stop the needy mewls that escaped him as the brunet worked his tongue in deeper, stretching and relaxing the muscle, and when he felt a digit slide inside his virgin channel, he keened softly at the incredible sensations that tore through his body. 

The captain was a considerate lover, taking his time to suitably prepare the blond, and when Gabriel was finally able to take three fingers, he pressed in further, nudging a spot deep inside the other and was pleased to hear a feral howl in return. Grinning wolfishly, he did it again, and this time, he lowered his mouth over the tip of the blond's cock, sucking hard as he relentlessly assaulted the other's prostate. He was rewarded moments later with a wordless scream and pulse after pulse of the blond's hot release. With a low purr that sent a shiver through the smaller male, he greedily swallowed everything he was given, already quite addicted to the salty sweet taste that was unique to his would-be lover. Even after the blond had stopped coming, Kireg continued to tease his sweet spot as he licked and sucked at his cock, soon bringing the fair-haired male back to full hardness. It was only then that he stopped, carefully easing his fingers free and sliding his body lithely over Gabriel's torso to kiss him deeply, a wanton growl sounding low in his throat. "God, I want you," he murmured against his lips, nipping the bottom one teasingly as he smiled darkly. To emphasize his point, he rocked his hips a little from side to side, letting his cock nestle between the lawyer's ass cheeks, the tip just barely pressing against the softened ring.

Gabriel laid back against the pillow, panting softly, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half-lidded as if drunk. His orgasm had been intense, better than any he'd ever had, and he wanted more. Slowly, he turned his head a little so that he could meet the brilliant green eyes he was starting to adore, and he felt a slight tremor of fear run through him at how easily he had given himself over to the pirate completely. He couldn't help it, though. The man _was_ like an incubus – and he was powerless to resist. "Have me, then. Claim me."

Kireg groaned lowly at that. "Trust me that it will feel better quickly," he said softly before kissing him again and then sitting back a little. He gave his palm a languid lick, and then gave himself a couple of cursory strokes before he arched his hips forward, slowly sliding in to the exquisite tightness. Once he was in all the way, he eased back from the embrace and met the violet eyes. "Alright?"

The blond clenched his jaw tightly against the pressure and stinging he felt. He wanted to tell the captain he'd changed his mind and didn't want to do this any more, but he also knew that the worst was over. After a few moments, he found that the pain had lessened, and he nodded. "Alright."

The brunet smiled gently, and lightly caressed his cheek and along his jaw with his fingertips, and then he began to move against the other, keeping his movements long and slow to let his lover get used to the sensations. His smile widened a little when he heard the shuddering gasp from the other, and after a couple of moments, he felt a pair of long legs wrap around him, drawing him in deeper. "Greedy," he teased before lowering his head to kiss along the blond's jaw, moving down to nip and lick at his neck.

Gabriel's fingers tightened against Kireg's shoulders, and he tipped his head back against the pillow, arching his body against his lover and keening wantonly. Panting softly, he could feel his release already building inside of him. He cried out when he felt the sting of a bite to his shoulder followed by the soothing caress of tongue, and he shifted a hand to twine his fingers in the tangle of dark tresses. He knew that the other was marking him, and after just a few more perfect thrusts, he was coming again, his eyes closed as a mewl of completion escaped him.

The captain felt the blond's body tense with his impending climax, and as the smaller male's passage grew impossibly tight and he felt the warmth of his release between them, he thrust a couple more times before he, too, came. "Mine," he rasped with a throaty growl as he brushed his thumb over his mark, and then he slid his hand up into the flaxen locks. Pulsing his seed deep inside the other, he found the blond's mouth and kissed him almost desperately, holding Gabriel tight to him as if afraid to let the moment end. Finally, he let his cock slip from the other's body, and he reached blindly for something to clean them off. A small, triumphant sound escaped him when he grasped a handkerchief, and he carefully wiped the blond down before turning to himself. Once he'd tossed it aside to be picked up later, he looked down into the violet eyes, for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty momentarily clouding the brilliant green. "Tell me you don't regret this. That you wanted this and I've made you happy."

"Tell me you'll do that to me again."

"I will. I swear it."

"Then I am. And I mean it."

* * *

The next afternoon, Captain Byrne was at the helm of the White Dragon, navigating through the channel between the Isles of Scilly and the southwest tip of Cornwall. Today he was dressed in dark purple breeches and frock coat – deliberately chosen for their direct violation of the antiquated sumptuary laws that prohibited 'commoners' from wearing that colour. His eyes narrowed slightly as he scanned the horizon; he thought he could see a shadow in the distance, but he needed to wait a few more moments before he would be able to discern it. Despite the serious expression he wore, he was incredibly at peace, though a little melancholy. After overcoming his initial shyness, Gabriel had proven to be a rather adventurous lover, and the two of them had spent the entire day in each other's arms making love or lightly dozing together. He was going to be sorry to let the blond go, but he'd known from the start that it had to be like this. He just hadn't counted on feeling so deeply for the strong-willed lawyer. He just hoped it was unrequited – it would make things easier in the end. 

He felt a presence at his side, and glancing over, he smiled when he saw Gabriel standing there. "Did Gawain give you a suitable tour?" he asked, recalling the cabin-boy's delight at being asked to entertain their guest while he met with his officers.

"She – er, _he_ is quite the ship. There's one thing that I found strange, though."

An impish smile crept across Kireg's face. He had an idea of what the other was going to say. "What is it?"

"You don't have a lot of armament on board. I mean, you've got powder and rounds for pistols, but I don't see anything for cannons. In fact, I didn't see any cannons at all."

"There are cannons. Mr. Prescot and Mr. Atherton do a good job of servicing them." He gave the blond a cryptic smile. "But remember, just because you can't see something, it doesn't mean it's not there. We are, after all, a rather unique crew."

"You are, by far, the most infuriating person I've ever met," Gabriel remarked with a slightly petulant scowl. "You never give a straight answer to anything, do you? It's always hidden meanings and interpretation, double entendres."

The captain laughed softly. "Now, now; you're making me sound like a lawyer." When he saw the violet eyes widen momentarily before the scowl deepened, he smiled contritely and said quietly, "I apologize. Though I thought I was very clear about what I think of you." Upon seeing the gorgeous flush colour the other's cheeks, he gave the blond a playful wink and then reached for his spyglass, straightening a little and grinning madly when he spotted something.

"You don't have to – what is it?" Gabriel asked curiously when he noticed the shift in posture.

"It's my welcoming committee. And from the look of it, Swansea is on the flagship – his guidon is flying on the mast." Turning away from the helm, he called to his lieutenant. "Mr. Rhys! Please tell Mr. Prescot and Mr. Atherton to make ready! The fleet is approaching from the northeast!" Once his order was acknowledged, he hopped down from the bridge to the main deck and began assisting the others with battle preparations.

The blond picked up the spyglass and scanned the horizon, a surprised gasp escaping him when he saw for himself that there were five warships approaching. He hurried down the steps and made his way over to the captain. "Are you _completely_ mental?" he demanded. "There are _five_ warships approaching at full sail!"

Captain Byrne brushed by the fair-haired man to help his crew set the jib, and he chuckled. "Yes, I know. Really, your concern is touching, but not necessary." He spied his cabin boy, and he barked, "Gawain! We will be giving no quarter! Please announce our intention!"

"Aye, Captain!" the boy said with a grin, and after retrieving the long, crimson pennant, he shimmied up the mast to hang the flag.

"Will you listen to me?" the blond asked angrily, his mouth curving downwards in a scowl as he continued to be ignored by the brunet. "Captain? Captain!" An irritated growl escaped him, and giving the green-eyed male a hard shove, he practically shouted, "Damn it, Kireg!"

That caught his attention. Stopping in his tracks, the pirate gazed curiously at the other. "That's the first time you've called me by my name." He smiled a little. "Hell, that's the first time you've called me _anything_." He lightly ran his fingertips over the other's cheek, and then chuckled. "I'm listening. What do you want?"

The blond batted his hand away, his scowl deepening. "What are you doing? You're charging head on into battle with five warships, announcing your intent to kill all souls on board. Each one of those ships will have a couple hundred men. Each one will have at least twenty cannons. You have twenty-five men, and what, maybe ten of your mystery cannons? How the hell are you possibly going to win? You need to retreat. While you still have a ship and your head."

Kireg smiled at that, and cupping the blond's cheeks in his hands, he leaned down and kissed him soundly. Meeting the angry, violet eyes, he said softly, "You worry far too much. You know this ship's reputation. We will be more than enough for them. Trust me. There is no retreat. Not when I'm so close to finishing what I need to do. Besides, the wheels have already been set in motion, and it's too late to stop it now. I told you that I'd dispatched a letter to Swansea telling him I'd kidnapped you, didn't I?" The green eyes narrowed slightly, and he smirked darkly as he eased away from the other. "It's all too perfect; I couldn't have scripted it better. I told him exactly where he would be able to find me, and conversely, you. You are, after all, one of the king's attorneys – a very important resource. Your rescue from scum like me would certainly be a feather in Swansea's cap, and such noble actions would surely result in more titles for the dear Baron. How could he possibly pass up such a tantalizing prize, ne? Self-serving interests cleverly hidden behind a thin veneer of honour. It's disgusting, really." He noted the troubled expression on the other's face, and he gave the blond a reassuring smile. "I promise you, this is the last time I will engage the baron in battle." His eyes softened considerably, and after a moment, he pulled Gabriel to him and held him in a protective embrace. "Now please, I need to prepare myself and my crew for what's to come. And when the Royal Navy sailors board us, please try to remember that you've been a prisoner all along and act accordingly. I'd hate to see you charged with treason."

Gabriel felt the warm press of lips against his own, and he watched the captain move off to join his crew, somewhat in awe of how the entire group seemed to work together as one, each man doing his job in perfect harmony with the others. All too soon for his liking, the large warships were upon them, and he could see the British sailors standing on the decks. He knew some of the senior officers from his court proceedings, and though he'd never met the man personally, he recognized the Baron of Swansea standing on the weather deck of the flagship. He heard the baron call out an order for Captain Byrne to surrender, and his gaze flicked over to the brunet. He saw the slow smile curve across his lips, and Gabriel knew at that moment that the other would never capitulate to any demand.

Kireg's gaze narrowed dangerously as he smiled wickedly at his sworn enemy. "And you, Baron, should turn your vessel around and return to port before you find you no longer have a ship to sail." He pointed to the long pennant streaming from the top of his mast, and he added darkly, "As you can see, I shall grant you no quarter should you remain in these waters with me. What say you?"

The baron's expression soured when he heard that, and he drew his pistol and fired. The distance between them and the captain's quick reflexes allowed him to dodge the ball, green eyes hardening and turning completely cold as he stared back at his quarry. "So be it." He moved back from the railing and took up a position in the centre of the craft. "Hard to port. We target the first ship. Make ready the cannons, full volley. Mr. Prescot, is there anything you can do?"

The sloop began to move through the water with an eerie manoeuvrability never before observed on any other vessel. A glance to the bridge showed that the helm was unmanned, and for all intents and purposes, it appeared that the ship was steering itself. The lavender-haired male joined the captain on deck, and grinned impishly. "I think I might have a trick or two up my sleeve." He bounded off for the bow, lithely moving past the jib to the bowsprit, his raucous laughter wafting back to them.

"Captain, the cannons are ready!" Kranteg Atherton's voice called up from below deck.

"Then fire as you see fit!"

The air exploded with the sound of gunpowder, a volley of seven cannonballs blasting holes in the side of the first vessel. The White Dragon had drawn first blood. As the navy ship retaliated, the small sloop cut through the water, seeming to anticipate the cannons and avoiding their deadly blows. The battle raged on, and before long, the British warship was on fire, listing badly, and taking on seawater at an alarming rate. White Dragon crewmen stood at the railing with pistols and muskets, firing at the sailors that had been 'fortunate' enough to abandon ship with their lives.

"Come about to starboard!" Captain Byrne called out. "Take the next vessel." He moved a little more toward the stern, noting that Gabriel was pressed up against the deck cabin, his violet eyes darting around and trying to follow everything that was happening. He gave the blond a wink, as if to reassure him, and then called out, "Mr. Prescot! How are you making out?"

"See for yourself, Captain!" the citrine-eyed male replied with another laugh as he returned to the deck, his pale eyes glowing slightly. Pointing to the farthest ship, he said, "They think their enemies are on board, and are quickly killing each other. And the ship beside them – " He trailed off, only to laugh again when there was a great explosion from the gun deck and the whole vessel erupted into flame. "–well, it seems as though their gunnery officer thought it might be a good idea to start shooting his four-pounders into the powder room."

The brunet's eyes widened slightly as he watched the warship quickly sink, and he gave his own officer a smile. "You're positively brilliant," he remarked, his hand over his heart.

"Guilty, as charged," Seirian Prescot replied with an exaggerated bow. He stumbled a bit when the cannons were fired again, twice in rapid succession, and he smirked as he watched the enemy ship get fourteen large holes punched through its hull. "That just leaves the flagship. Hand to hand?"

"Likely. We'll try to keep it afloat so the crew can be paid when it's sold. But Swansea is mine and mine alone."

The officer nodded. "I'll track down the Rhys brothers to prepare."

"Thank you." After the lavender-haired male had left, Kireg found Gabriel and took his hand, pulling him out with him to the centre of the deck. "I'm very sorry, but I need them to see you."

The blond resisted a little, and looking in stunned shock at the brunet, he asked, "What the hell just happened?"

The captain chuckled softly. "Remember those unique attributes I mentioned we possessed? Well, Mr. Prescot can weave illusions in people's minds, make them believe what he wants them to. It's why the survivors think I'm this horrendous beast with a huge ship and an immense crew."

Gabriel stared mutely at the other, trying to wrap his head around what he had just witnessed. He could hardly believe that four warships had been dispensed with in such a short time – and by a tiny sloop no less – and that only the flagship now remained. "What are you going to do?"

"Bargain. And hopefully spare my ship from Swansea's cannons." Holding the blond's hand in an iron grip, he moved to the bow and shouted, "I warned you not to cross me! You want your precious lawyer back, come and get him! Your sailor's lives should be a fair exchange!" He saw the Baron of Swansea tense when he saw Gabriel, and though he couldn't hear him clearly, from his body language, it was obvious that he was telling his crew to stand down cannons. Kireg noticed that his other officers were on deck and waiting for orders, and after taking a deep breath, he commanded to his crew, "I lack the patience to wait for a nobleman who can't make a decision. Come up along side their starboard railing! If they won't come to us, we'll go to them and see what trinkets the baron has brought along with him on this journey. Besides, I'm sure a fully armed English warship in prime condition will fetch a good price when all is said and done!"

There was a cheered shout from the White Dragon sailors, and as the sloop came up alongside the large frigate, the crewmen tossed heavy iron hooks across the distance, latching onto the railings and pulling their vessel closer. It wasn't long before the English soldiers found their way onto the deck of the White Dragon, and trailing behind them, the imperious form of the Baron of Swansea.

Kireg gave Gabriel's hand a gentle squeeze and murmured, "Please be careful. I wouldn't forgive myself if after all this, something happened to you. This shouldn't take too long."

"But you're unarmed!" the blond protested, a brow arching in surprise when he heard the captain laugh.

"Am I? As I've been telling you all along, I'm a bit unique myself." He held out his hand, and a moment later, a sabre materialized against his palm. Grasping it, he narrowed his eyes as he moved to duel his nemesis. The other officers were similarly capable, and soon the air was filled with the clang of steel on steel.

Gabriel picked up a fallen sailor's weapon and moved as if to help, but after seeing the expediency with which the demon pirates were killing their enemies, he thought better of it. He figured he'd likely wind up stabbed for his trouble. Instead, as the fight quickly died down, he looked through the fracas for some sign of the brunet. Finally, he spotted him toward the stern where he was advancing on the baron, and he began edging his way in that direction.

"So," Swansea sneered. "The little worm survived. Next time, I'll make sure you're dead before I leave you."

"You missed your chance," Kireg replied, a dark, cruel smile on his face. "Today is your day to die." He tipped his blade up and moved into a 'ready' stance. "En garde." It wasn't much of a fight. The brunet's reflexes and speed were superior and left the baron, an accomplished swordsman, looking clumsy and awkward as they duelled. With a well-timed parry, the captain caught the tip of the other's chin and sliced it open, the blood running down the noble's shirt in a near-deluge. "The next time, I shall slit your throat." Goading the other, he continued to taunt him, his strikes enough to leave stinging wounds, but never enough to be fatal. Finally, he had Swansea nearly backed against the one railing, and he could see the fear and frustration in the man's dark eyes.

With a strangled shout, the baron came at the brunet, his attacks swift and frequent as he lunged repeatedly at him. His anger rose when the captain continued to dodge his attacks, the soft sounds of his mocking laughter only serving to further infuriate him. Finally, in a desperate move, he grasped his sabre in both hands and charged Kireg. Half expecting to lose a hand at the very least, if not his head, he thrust his blade forward.

Captain Byrne, who had been watching the other man carefully, grinned as the nobleman came at him, and just when he was within range, he dropped his hands to the side, completely exposing himself to the attack.

"Kireg, _no_!" Gabriel shouted, and watched in horror as the sabre pierced cleanly through his chest, the blade sliding through up to the hilt.

Everything seemed to stop at that point. A hushed gasp escaped the White Dragon crew, and the officers, who were finishing up with the English sailors, rushed to their captain. Even Swansea seemed shocked, for he simply stood there, eyes wide in disbelief, his body unmoving as he held his breath and watched.

The captain stumbled back a couple of steps, and as he glanced down, a wide grin split his face and he let out a small, near-hysterical laugh. "Guess you got me," he said, his body trembling a little from the residual adrenaline running through his system and the pain he felt in his chest every time he tried to take a breath. Suddenly, he sobered and his expression turned deadly. "My turn." With his demon reflexes, he moved forward, grabbing a fistful of the baron's hair and holding tightly as he swayed a little and then leaned slightly against him. "For your information, _this_ is how you gut someone to make sure they don't survive," he hissed darkly in the other's ear, and he drew his sword deeply across the man's stomach, then slit him from navel to sternum to form a macabre cross, twisting the blade as he did so and watching his entrails spill onto the deck. Seemingly satisfied, he shoved the dying noble away, staggering back himself from the force as his sword fell from his hand, and then he landed on his ass on the deck.

The Rhys brothers moved to their captain's side, but Gabriel nudged past them, dropping to his knees in front of him. "Why?" he demanded hotly as he gave the brunet a shake. "Why did you let him kill you?"

"Did I?" Kireg asked with a soft smile. "Hm, I think it's more that Lady Luck just wasn't smiling on me this afternoon," he said, echoing the blond's words from the previous day. He turned to give Daz Rhys a grateful smile when he felt the support of a knee at his back, and he leaned heavily against the raven-tressed male. He lightly batted away his lieutenant's hands as the redhead tried to get a better look at the wound, and he shook his head. "Leave it." The blade was acting like a plug, keeping him from bleeding out rapidly.

"Bastard," the lawyer murmured lowly, his hands clenching into fists by his side. "I told you that I would have defended you. Pled your case to the king, seen you pardoned. I –"

The brunet cut him off with a finger to his lips. "Your justice system is a farce. They would have promised me a fair trial, but before I ever stepped foot in any court, I'd have been branded as guilty and convicted on the spot. I've done too many things, spilled too much blood to ever be pardoned. At least this way, there's a bit of honour to it. Even if it's just in my own mind."

"So you would just die?" the blond exclaimed.

Another soft smile settled on Kireg's face, and he glanced over at the lifeless nobleman. "I told you that once the baron was dead, I'd be at peace, and I am. Besides, despite my profession, I never really was one for amassing treasure." Pained green eyes met violet, and with trembling fingers, he lightly brushed over the pale skin. "I've had enough, and it's not like I could just give this up and retire somewhere. I'd never have been satisfied with that. Besides, I was living on borrowed time anyway. I should have died by Swansea's hand years ago. I fulfilled my oath and that's all there is."

"But what about me?" Gabriel demanded, his eyes glittering suspiciously. "Ever since we first met, you've been trying to change my perceptions. To get me to see things in shades of grey! To stop being so cynical! And now, when I need you to help me, you're leaving me!"

"You have changed some, and I'm pleased for you. But you _don't_ need me. I'm just a pirate captain, and a rogue and scoundrel at that. Barely worth a mention in the history books, even." He laughed a little, his eyes welling up with tears from the searing pain in his lungs. "Though if it's not too much trouble, I'd like for you to remember me, Mr. Sloane. Do that, and I won't have died in vain. I'm just sorry that I've gone and cost you five hundred pieces of gold – the baron's bounty should still stand even if he is dead." He fumbled with the buttons on his waistcoat and shirt, and after getting some help from Griffen Rhys, he pulled the crucifix from his neck, snapping the leather thong and clenching it tightly in his fist. "This was Alistair Byrne's. Then it was mine. Now it's yours. I don't expect you to put your faith in God, but do keep some faith in something. Please. For me." He pressed it into Gabriel's hand, letting his crimson stained fingers slowly slip away as he panted softly from the effort. "Though, if my memory serves me, I do believe you owe me one favour still. Please, when you bring my body in, don't let them desecrate it in a public forum. At least let me have that much dignity."

"You knew," the lawyer said lowly. "You'd planned for it to end like this all along." Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and murmured, "But I promise." The blond's jaw was tightly clenched, and his lower lip trembled slightly. "And damn you, too," he whispered. "You made me fall in love with you, knowing you wouldn't stay."

Kireg looked up at him tiredly, a small, sad smile on his face as he lightly touched Gabriel's lips. "I am truly sorry for that," he said apologetically as his eyes slipped closed. When he opened them again, the light behind the brilliant green had dimmed considerably. "You were never supposed to love me back."

* * *

The mood on the White Dragon was sombre as the crew pulled into the port at St. Agnes. Now-Captain Rhys' first order had been to lay their fallen comrade in his room, and Gabriel had sat at the brunet's bedside, holding tightly to the bloodied crucifix in his hand. He'd reflected back on his conversation in the bar in Calais, and how he'd so arrogantly proclaimed that he'd gladly take the pirate's life if the opportunity ever presented itself. That thought had filled him with a deep sense of shame and despair, and with no one around to see, he'd finally allowed his own emotions to break free, privately lamenting the loss of a great sailor, friend, and lover.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to collect your reward," the redheaded captain said coldly as the lawyer prepared to disembark, the crimson eyes much harder and unyielding than Captain Byrne's had been. "Five hundred pieces of gold is a fair bit."

"Actually, I'm not," the blond replied equally as coolly, his own expression closed off to the other. "He doesn't deserve to be made into some sort of trophy of the crown. I want you to give him a proper burial at sea." He glanced down the deck at the other crewmen, and then turned back to the long-haired male. "Please."

Griffen Rhys nodded at that, and then signalled to his crew to make ready to depart. "Thank you," he said simply, and once the lawyer had safely reached the pier, the White Dragon pulled out of the harbour to head for open waters.

That was the last time the small sloop was seen in English waters. For six months, there had been no reports of any ship being raided by the White Dragon, and no one knew for certain what had become of the ship and crew. It seemed that they had honoured their former captain's wishes by moving out of the area, though where they'd gone and what they were doing was a mystery. Rumours occasionally surfaced from remote places, stories telling about a lone craft defeating small flotillas with an unnatural expedience, but they were never substantiated.

Gabriel returned to London, quickly working his way up through the legal system to become a judge. Taking to heart the conversations he'd had with Kireg Byrne in the two days he had known him, he soon earned a reputation for being swift but fair. When he found a man guilty, his sentences were harsh, but he did provide an honest hearing of the facts – something that both disturbed the monarchy, which sought to make an example of offenders as a show of its might, and endeared him to the people, who had seen more than enough corruption and abuse of power in recent times. 

Still, despite all his success, he still felt a deep ache inside of him when he thought of the captain. He'd tried to bury it, a few times finding comfort in the arms of a woman, but afterwards, he'd always felt hollow and found himself missing the green-eyed brunet even more. "Damn him," he muttered lowly as he pulled off his judicial wig and ran a hand haphazardly through his hair. Stuffing it carelessly into his satchel, he began gathering up his other papers.

"So, did you keep your faith in me, or have you lost it already, Mr. Sloane?"

The blond froze at the voice, and eyes wide, he looked up, his mouth dropping open a little. "Kireg," he breathed, his whole body feeling suddenly numb as he looked at gentleman dressed in the conservative black wool breeches and coat. He blinked a few times, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. Swallowing thickly, he dropped his gaze back to his task, and muttered flatly, "I never promised to keep faith in you." He clenched his jaw, afraid to look up lest he find it had all been an illusion.

The brunet grinned at that and made his way over to Gabriel. "No, I merely asked you to keep faith in something. Tell me, what was it that you chose?" He leaned a little bit closer and tipped the blond's chin up.

The judge's eyes fell closed as he breathed in the soft scent of cypress and vanilla. "Fate. I believed in fate, because I refused to believe it was simple coincidence that we met." He let out a soft, shuddering breath, hardly daring to believe his senses, and a part of him silently wondered if he'd finally gone insane. "How is this possible? I watched you die and sat at your side for hours." Confusion, denial and hope swirled within the violet depths, and for as much as he wanted to reach out and touch the other, he remained still.

Kireg gently cupped a cheek, and then let his fingers trail down the slender throat, a slow smile spreading across his face when he felt the hard bump of the crucifix beneath the blond's shirt. "You're wearing it," he remarked, obviously pleased, and then he leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss over the other's lips. "I _was_ dead, but I have friends," he teased. "Or rather, I have a friend who has friends. The water demons have the capacity to gather together and resurrect fallen sailors buried at sea, though why they chose to give yet another chance to a scoundrel like me I'll never know. Apparently, Lady Luck _was_ smiling on me that day after all."

"Demon doesn't mean evil," the blond said softly, his eyes glittering suspiciously as he let out a choked laugh. He looked into the brilliant green and asked quietly, "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, I thought about trying to find my old ship. Commanding a vessel was something I was good at, and it's usually a good idea to stick with one's strengths, don't you think?" He winked at the fair-haired male, and then turned thoughtful. "To be honest, I suppose my next course of action really depends on you," the brunet remarked with an enigmatic smirk, only to laugh at the aggravated look he received in return. "Tell me, how attached are you to this job and this city?"

"Why?" Gabriel's brow furrowed slightly at the question. "I'm not about to take up a life on the high seas pillaging and looting."

Kireg held up a hand and waved it dismissively. "I'm not asking you to. I just have no desire to remain here. Despite my being officially dead, I don't trust those in power to have removed my name from the wanted lists. I've also never been pardoned, and I really don't want anything to do with the king and his policies any more. I think that I could settle down in a place like Calais. Or the Mediterranean coast; Minorca is gorgeous, and I'd teach you to speak Spanish." He took the blond's hands in his, his expression turning suddenly serious. "I want you to come with me, Gabriel, but I'll try to understand if you won't."

The judge smirked. "That sounds all well and good, but how would we live? I don't have much of a savings account, and I doubt we could travel for free."

"Hm, that does pose a bit of a problem, doesn't it?" Kireg said with a smile. "After all, you didn't claim the reward that was owed to you." He chuckled. "That's alright. I sold my chronometer to the Royal Navy. They paid me quite well for it. And John Smith will go down in history as an English saviour of sorts. So you see, we can get there with no trouble at all."

"And once we're there? What will we do then? Work a farm?"

"If you'd like. Though I was thinking we could buy a nice estate somewhere, have people to tend to us, and spend our days in each other's arms." The dark-haired male grinned widely at that. "To each his own, but really, that sounds much more appealing to me than tilling land."

The blond gave him a dubious look. "And I'm sure you've got it planned out as to how we'll accomplish this?"

"I always have a plan. Now that I'm retired, I can use my savings."

Gabriel frowned slightly. "I thought you said you weren't one for amassing treasure."

Kireg chuckled. "I'm not. I much prefer banks, especially foreign banks. I have accounts in France, Spain and Italy." He leaned in and nuzzled the blond's cheek. "I can take care of you. So, what say you? Will you run away with me?" He glanced down at the wig peeking out from the other's satchel. "Leave that ridiculous thing behind before it demands to be fed and walked?"

The judge glanced down at the white wig, and then back into the green eyes he adored. "Kiss me first, and then ask me again."

The brunet arched a brow, but smiled as he capitulated to the other's game. Drawing him close and wrapping his arms around him, he tipped his head down to press against the blond's mouth, slowly deepening the kiss and pouring all his emotion into the embrace as his tongue lazily twined with Gabriel's. As he broke away, he continued to hold the other tight against him, and he murmured lowly against his lips, "Will you leave this place and be with me? Let me care for you? Let me treasure you?"

"Do you swear you won't leave me behind again?" Violet eyes gazed searchingly into the emerald depths. 

"I couldn't bear to do that to you again. I swear it, yes."

The blond gave him a genuine, brilliant smile, and a moment later, he tossed his satchel up on the desk. Taking Kireg's hand in his, he nodded. "Then yes."

Together, they walked away from everything in their pasts to face the unknown. And they never looked back.


End file.
